And They Lived Happily
by CharlotteBlackwood
Summary: Victoria Lane looks a lot like the one he's dreamt of so long. Severus Snape can hardly help but wonder if this might be why he survived... SS/OC, Post-War
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ANOTHER story. Lol. SS/OC, Snape survives, Post-War, blah, blah, blah, I own nothing, blah, blah, ON WITH THE TALE!**

**-C**

The war was over. The Weasley with one ear had agreed to help search the grounds for wounded, to help gather the dead who had been left scattered around after the war ended. He had almost finished the area he had agreed when he spotted the Shrieking Shack and wondered…

He found Severus Snape bleeding out on the floor, but he had a pulse. It was a faint, erratic pulse, but George knew it was there. Remembering Harry's speech, he took pity on his git of a former professor.

"Hey Toria!" he called to his friend who was tending to the wounded he found. "We need Healers down here! Snape's still alive!"

"What?" shrieked that familiar voice of Victoria Lane, his former classmate, who was going into her final year of Healer training. The pretty green-eyed redhead rushed into the room, falling to her knees beside the bloody body. "Oh, Merlin. George, go find Hermione Granger. I loaned her some things I'm going to need when she found Lavender Brown had haven't had a chance to get them back. Hurry!"

Victoria began sponging the blood away from the affected area, muttering comforting words to the unconscious man. George brought Hermione back promptly and the two girls worked eagerly to neutralize the venom, heal the wound, clean the blood away. The three of them took him up to the hospital wing, which was practically overflowing with the injured, dying, and recovering.

For three days, Victoria cared for various war injuries, paying special attention to Professor Severus Snape, who remained unconscious despite her best efforts. On the fourth day, George came to visit. She was sitting at Snape's bedside, carefully combing his hair.

"Hey, Toria," said George, sitting down beside her. "Going to take a few hours off tomorrow for the funeral?"

Victoria snorted and said, "What, leave the infirmary without a Healer because of a sham mass funeral for a bunch of people whose names won't even be mentioned? George, I'm so sorry Fred died, and I lost plenty of friends too, but I'm needed here."

"Right," said George with an ironic laugh. "Professor Greaseus Snape absolutely needs you to comb his hair. Toria, what are you going to do if he just doesn't wake up? You said yourself that it could happen. Are you just going to sit here combing his hair every day until one of you dies? You're twenty years old, Toria. Don't waste your life on him."

"How dare you?" she hissed. "It's my job to care for all of these patients. Harry even said your ear was an accident. He's as much of a war hero as you or Fred or Tien or anyone else in that battle and he deserves good medical attention!"

"Where were you during the war, sweetheart?" growled George. "Little Miss Half-blood Victoria Lane, never choosing sides, keeping your head down, not standing for anything, letting others die in your place! Is that why you'd rather be at Snape's bedside than my brother's funeral? Because you can relate to his traitorous ways?"

"Get out, George," she seethed, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she continued combing.

"Fred loved you, Toria, and I never understood it, but I respected it. I know he'd want you there–"

"I said get out!" she shrieked, snapping the comb in half, shaking violently. For a moment, there was a heavy pause before George stormed out of the room. Only a moment later, Victoria broke down in tears.

Fifteen minutes later, she had composed herself. Hermione Granger had come up to relieve her for her dinner break. She updated the friend of Harry Potter on the patients and asked if she knew where George was. As soon as she could be there, Victoria was at the roped off section of swamp the twins had created in their famous escape from Hogwarts. George was standing at the bloodstained rope.

"I loved him, George," she said softly. "I loved him so much. But he's gone and not only am I not ready to deal with that yet, but a mass funeral doesn't feel much like the best way for me to do so. Severus Snape is alive, George, and he needs me. There's nothing I can do for Fred anymore and you have no idea how knowing that breaks my heart, but there's a hospital wing full of people I _can_ help."

"I know that, Toria," George sighed. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. But what are you going to do if he never wakes up?"

Victoria sighed and hugged him.

"Why don't you ask me that again when I'm emotionally stable enough to answer?"

And he led her off to the kitchens for her break and let her cry on his shoulder.

The following day, Victoria showed up for work as if it were any other day, but as she went about her work she watched out the window as hundreds of people gathered by the lake for the mass funeral. She could feel the corners of her vision blur as she turned away from the window and began combing Severus Snape's hair. A few tears fell onto his face and she sighed, brushing them gently away. His eyes flickered open.

"Lily?" he croaked, reaching up with a shaky, weak hand and touching her face.

"N-no," whispered Victoria, but she grasped his hand tenderly.

"I love you, Lily," he sighed. His eyes flickered shut again and his arm fell slack again, but she could feel his pulse when she checked. He was making some kind of progress. Her heart was racing.

For the next few days, Severus Snape did not open his eyes and remained unresponsive, but he did occasionally mutter in his sleep. When he wasn't speaking Victoria spoke to him, hoping it would help him return to full consciousness sooner. A week in George brought Harry Potter and Professor McGonagall up to the hospital wing to check on the progress of the few remaining patients, mostly victims of Fenrir Greyback and his pack. While Professor McGonagall and George were inspecting a sleeping Lavender Brown, Victoria found herself sitting across from Harry Potter as she combed Severus Snape's hair.

"How is he?" he whispered.

"There's been some improvement," she said with a sad smile. "He opened his eyes a few days ago, and he's been mumbling in his sleep. I mean, I don't think he has a clue of where he is or what's going on, but I've been talking to him; maybe it's done some good. I don't know."

"Thank you," said Harry softly. "I thought he was dead. So much was going on and I just left him there to die…. If not for you, I know he would have."

She gave him another sad smile and suddenly Severus Snape sat up, clutching Victoria's shoulders tightly.

"Lily," he croaked at the shocked young girl. "Lily, I'm so sorry. I failed you. I'm so sorry. I love you, Lily, I've always loved you."

Victoria gave Harry a shocked look as the man between them hugged her to him and began pressing desperate kisses on her collarbone and neck. Harry looked as uncomfortable as she felt, although those chapped lips felt surprisingly good against her skin….

"Professor?" said Harry gently, attempting to pry the man off her. "Professor, this isn't Lily. This is Victoria Lane. She was a student of yours. Do you remember her?"

But Severus Snape didn't appear to be listening. He was muttering incoherently as his lips continued to desperately explore every inch of her exposed skin. He bit down softly on her collarbone and she let out a surprised squeal, causing George and Professor McGonagall to turn around.

"Bloody hell, Toria!" cried George. "How long has this been going on?"

"About thirty seconds," she whimpered, trying not to think about the pleasurable sensations shooting through her body.

"He thinks she's my mother," said Harry, wincing. "I'm still trying to decide what about this disturbs me most."

Professor McGonagall and George rushed over to help pry Severus Snape off a very confused Victoria Lane. The boys helped her out of the room while Professor McGonagall went about trying to calm the now-hysterical Severus Snape.

"Has this happened before?" said George.

"Not really," said Victoria, shaking as she clung to George with similar urgency to how her former professor had just clung to her, though without the kissing. "A few days ago he opened his eyes and he called me Lily, but I didn't think he was actually aware of his surroundings."

Harry pulled an old photograph out of his pocket. George and Victoria looked own at it and gasped. Harry's mother had silky auburn hair; Victoria's was more of a dark red. Harry's mother had emerald green eyes; Victoria's were more of a bottle green. Other than that, they could have been looking at a picture of Victoria.

"Merlin," breathed George. "Your mum was hot, Harry."

"George!" hissed Victoria.

"What?" he laughed. "Did you or did you not just get sexually assaulted by Snape?"

"George!" she cried, shaking her head with exasperation. "I have to change the dressing on Lavender Brown's face."

Victoria kissed George on the cheek, waved goodbye to Harry, and went right back into the infirmary. She focused on Lavender, not realizing that there was a pair of black eyes following her every move. Just as she finished her task, a formerly silky baritone voice croaked, "I apologize, Miss Lane, for my behavior."

She turned around and saw Severus Snape watching her with a slightly abashed expression.

"Please, Professor, call me Toria."

She wished he hadn't apologized, because it made her realize that she didn't really mind at all what he had done.

/-/

He watched her the rest of the evening. He couldn't believe he had actually attacked a former student in such a manner. Still, as he watched Victoria Lane go through her duties in the infirmary, Severus found her graceful and tender actions to be incredibly familiar. It was like watching Lily all over again.

"Well," she said with that almost sickeningly-sweet smile, "you can do more things for yourself now. If there's anything I can do for you, let me know."

He nodded and continued to watch her go through her various tasks. As the time neared midnight she began to slow, though she did not stop. She carefully combed the hair of each unconscious invalid, telling them meaningless little things in her soft, thoughtful voice.

"Miss Lane, you look exhausted. You should sleep."

"Please, call me Toria. I can't sleep, Professor. I don't like the things I see when I dream and I'm allergic to valerian roots."

"Call me Severus. If you don't mind me asking, what are you dreaming of that makes you rather stay up all night?"

"The war," she said in a soft, forlorn sort of voice that somehow broke his heart.

"Did you fight?" he croaked, horrified at the idea of her angelic little body in the line of fire.

"N-no," she muttered. "My friends are actually a bit upset that I didn't pick a side. But I was scared. I know it makes me a terrible Gryffindor, but I wasn't ready to die." She slumped into the chair next to his bed and bit her lip. "Now I wish I had," she whispered.

"Don't say that," he croaked insistently. "Why would you say that?"

Her pretty green eyes filled with tears.

"He died. Fred Weasley, the man too noble to flee the country and grow old with me, died in the final battle. I didn't go to the funeral. I let him down."

Severus swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing her in a different light.

"I picked the wrong side long ago and effectively turned over the only woman I ever loved to her killer."

"I know," sniffed Victoria. "Harry told everyone before he killed You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort," said Severus with a little smirk. He had always wanted to say that. "And I'll have to have a talk with Potter about that. Anyway, when I saw your face, I was sure I had been reunited with her in death. I'm still quite sorry about that."

She shrugged in her sweet little way.

"So we'd both rather be dead?" she giggled through tears. "That's probably one of the most horrifically pathetic things ever."

He shook his head and said, "Well, I suppose we could always help each other."

Her eyes grew wide and she gripped his hand tightly in her two small, delicate hands.

"I can't die, Severus, George would kill me!" He smirked. "You know what I mean! He needs me!"

"Of course he does," said Severus softly, mentally kicking himself for being so bold. "That wasn't at all what I was suggesting, and I understand you would prefer the twin of the man you lost…"

"What?" Victoria gasped, confused. "N-no, George is engaged. Besides, he never even liked me at all."

Why ever not? Severus inwardly frowned, torn between glee that she wasn't spoken for and anger that anyone could possibly not want to worship her.

"I was simply thinking," he plowed on, anxiously filtering every word, "that since we are both alone now, we could keep each other company."

Her pretty green eyes lit up with surprise and she nodded slowly.

"I'd like that," she whispered. "I should get back to work right now, though. I'm going to miss combing your hair," she added thoughtfully.

Severus's eyes grew wide as she walked away and he imagined her precious fingertips dancing along his scalp, teasing his skin gently…. He suppressed a violent shudder. Suddenly, he was wondering if he truly wanted to be dead.

The next morning, Victoria Lane changed bedding and bandages. Severus watched the care with which she went about each task, as though it were her only purpose in life.

"So, Miss Lane," he began.

"Toria," she beamed back.

"You are a Healer now?"

She froze in the middle of pulling the sheets off him and bit her lip.

"Well," she said, "I've got a year of training left, but that's a formality. You learn Healing much more quickly in wartime."

"I can imagine," he whispered. Just then, the door swung open and in walked The Chosen One himself.

"Victoria," said The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Annoying.

"Toria," she corrected.

"George had me look into your situation. He said you'd been living at the hospital since you got word of the raid at your home."

Severus blinked. How long had she been living at work?

"Yes," she muttered, a shame-ridden blush coloring her face. "Do we know what happened now?"

"Well," said The Chosen Potter, "you don't really have a house anymore, or a family from the looks of things."

Severus sneered. Sensitive, Potter, really sensitive.

To his surprise, however, the sad little angel simply nodded and said, "Thanks, Harry, I'll have to figure something else out, then."

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Like-His-Father opened his mouth, as though about to offer her something, but Severus couldn't let this opportunity slide through his fingers.

"She's staying with me," he croaked rather less impressively that it had sounded in his head. Her eyes widened and he panicked, sure she would protest. "How else shall I create a sleeping potion to which you are not allergic?"

Her pretty little lips upturned into a small, soft smile.

"I'd like that, if it's not too much trouble," she whispered.

"None at all," Severus croaked sincerely. "Many people have been left homeless. It would likely be difficult for you to find somewhere else reasonable to stay."

"Well, that seems to be cleared up," muttered a bemused Potter. "George will be disappointed. I believe he was ready to treat you like his brother's widow or something."

Victoria groaned, Potter chuckled, and the boy said his goodbyes, taking leave. Severus watched Potter leave, contemplating him. The boy was walking with, if it were possible, even more confidence than he had before he had defeated the Dark L – Voldemort.

"When was your home attacked?" Severus asked quietly when they were once again alone. He was trying to remember anything he could about Victoria Lane. She was about twenty years old, an excellent Potions student, top of her year in Charms (only because the Weasley twins had never cared about their grades), and had she been a Slytherin she would have been one of his most prized students.

"I don't remember anymore," she sighed. "February? March? It was several months ago, anyway. It's not so bad, staying in the hospital."

"I can't imagine you enjoyed not knowing what happened to your parents."

Victoria shrugged slightly.

"I didn't know what had happened to anyone and I should have made an effort to. Fred offered for me to go into hiding with his family, but I refused. His friends did this underground resistance radio show that I didn't listen to, not even to hear the sound of his voice, because I was scared of getting caught."

He could see a single tear roll down her cheek and his chest felt remarkably tight. She was changing the flowers in the vase beside his bed, and he reached out a trembling hand to touch her arm.

"You loved him, didn't you?"

She began to shake violently with sobs and Severus was concerned that her legs would give out, so he firmly forced her to sit down on the edge of his bed. Victoria surprised him by turning, pressing her face into his chest, clutching his shirt in her shaking fists, and curling her little body against him like a distressed child. He felt a little confused, but he began stroking her hair on impulse. She smelled like vanilla and roses and he found himself leaning forward, drinking in her scent. It was pure and sweet, like her. Her hair was as soft as it looked.

"Did you go to her funeral?" she sniffed, lifting her pretty little face to look at him, her eyes red and puffy, still swimming with tears.

"No," he croaked, feeling the corners of his own vision blur.

"Do you regret it?" she whispered, her warm breath tickling his neck. He bit back a sigh at the sensation.

"Every day," he admitted, running his fingers absently through her silky hair. It took him a moment to realize that she had fallen asleep on top of him. She looked so peaceful and she had been so tired that he didn't have it in him to wake her.

He wasn't sure how long he lay like that, holding her little frame and enjoying her sweet hair, but after a little while the Weasley twin returned. The redhead's face was bewildered as he looked at the pair lying on the hospital cot.

"She hasn't been sleeping," Severus hissed as the Weasley took the seat by the bed. "She was upset and fell asleep from the exertion. She needs the rest."

Weasley nodded and whispered, "I've been too hard on her. I took out all my grief and anger on her when Fred died. I blamed her when I shouldn't have." He sighed. "Harry tells me you're putting her up."

Severus nodded.

"It's the least I can do, with all she has done for me. I owe her my life."

"I never understood what my brother saw in her," muttered Weasley. "She's pretty, but she doesn't have convictions. She'd rather survive than believe in something. I mean, she's supposed to be a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. But… she did the best she could, didn't she?"

Severus nodded, continuing to pet her silky hair. Weasley tried his hand at changing dressings on the other patients before leaving quietly. Victoria slept peacefully through the night.


	2. The Darkness is a Lonely Place

Victoria awoke to find herself carefully tucked into the sheets of an infirmary cot that smelled like Severus Snape. She sat up, looking around.

"Good morning," said the formerly smooth voice of Severus Snape from the doorway. "I've just spoken with Minerva. I'll be reclaiming my place as Potions Master in the fall. Draco is taking the Dark Arts job on Potter's recommendation. And since the hospital wing is back to a more manageable condition, Poppy would like it back. I was hoping to move you into my home today, if that is agreeable."

"Oh," she muttered sleepily. "I'll have to pick up a few things at St. Mungo's, but that's fine."

"Excellent," he croaked softly. "We can use Minerva's Floo."

He helped her to her feet, allowed her to straighten her robes, and led her to the Head's study. Professor McGonagall wasn't there, but they used her fireplace to go to the St. Mungo's Floo System. Victoria led the way to the staff lockers.

"Oh, Toria, darling!" shrieked a familiar voice. "I looked for you at the funeral but Georgie said you weren't going!"

"Good morning, Sophie, dear," sighed Victoria. "It's lovely to see you as well. You remember Professor Snape, don't you? Severus, I think you may recall Sophie Kirby? She is another former student and a spy in the war, like you."

"Oh, Toria, darling," laughed the petite brunette. "You glorify my work! Sleeping with a few people for information to pass off through the Weasley twins–"

"Ah," croaked Severus. "That would by why Yaxley's plans never worked out. You are a Healer, Miss Kirby?"

"One more year!" she said with a proud nod, her short espresso hair bouncing around her head. "What can we do for you, Professor?"

"Nothing, Sophie," said Victoria quickly, inexplicably nervous as to her old friend's intentions with the war hero. "We're just picking up my things. I've found a place to stay. Tell the girls I said hello as I came through, dear."

Victoria grabbed a single rucksack out of the locker below Sophie's, kissed her friend on the cheek, and allowed Severus to lead her out to the Apparition point in the lobby. On their turn he croaked, "Hold tight," and when she assured him she had a firm grip, he turned, giving her the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a pipe as she zoomed through space.

They landed in an unattractive Muggle neighborhood up north. Not letting go of her hand and his other hand holding his wand underneath his robes, he led her to an old-fashioned house at the end of the street. Once inside, Severus dropped her hand and told her to stay put while he went to check the house.

There were no pictures in the foyer, or friendly welcome mats or even inviting hat stands. It was empty, lonely, and cold, with no tangible signs of habitation. Victoria could feel the hair on her arms stand on end.

"Toria?" she heard Severus calling from the staircase. "I think everything's fine. Are you hungry?"

She nodded, suddenly realizing how long it had been since she had last eaten. Severus came back down the stairs and led her to the kitchen.

"I had some of the house elves deliver some food here while you were asleep," he said, "so we should be fine for a while. Would you like tea or wine?"

Victoria blinked at him. Wine so early in the day?

"Tea, please," she said softly, feeling incredibly uncomfortable suddenly. She felt as though she was intruding on her former professor's private domain, where she was sure to learn to see him in a light she might not be altogether comfortable with, and the thought terrified her. Perhaps accepting his invitation was a bad idea in hindsight, but it was too late to turn back now. He would be insulted if she did.

"I suppose the housing market will be overfull of demand at first," she mused as he handed her a cup of tea. "I promise, though, as soon as I am able I will be out of your hair, so to speak."

Perhaps Victoria imagined a flicker of some unknown emotion making its way across Severus's face at the word "hair", and she probably had. After all, who would have a reaction to such a typical word? It was a silly thought. Still, he shook his head vehemently as he sat down across from her.

"Nonsense, you're staying here as long as you'd like. It really would be best if you stayed until we have a potion for your sleeping problems, but if you truly don't want to be here you can leave. It would be far more convenient if you stayed, I won't deny, but I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

Did she feel uncomfortable? Oh, yes, incredibly so. But he didn't need to know that.

"Then I'll stay," she said bravely, thinking her Gryffindor friends would be so proud. After all, he couldn't be as bad as they had all imagined. He had just given her tea that didn't seem to be laced with poison. She was, after all, still alive. Perhaps she could come to enjoy his company.

The evening passed agreeably. They had tea, he made dinner, and they sat in the study reading. He found her some books on Charms theory in Healing that were a bit outdated, but interesting nonetheless. He used the time to do research on possible substitutes for valerian roots in sleeping draughts. When she began to yawn quite a bit, he led her up to a room he had cleaned up for her stay that didn't appear to have been lived in in quite a while, but longer than the rest of the house.

It was hard to sleep that night. Every time she closed her eyes, Victoria saw the cold, unmoving face of Fred staring up at her as she had seen in when the battle was over, when George and Sophie asked her to come down to help with the injured and dying. Those blue eyes, those laughing blue eyes, dead, empty, cold. Nowhere in them could she find the love she had seen in them so often. Was there anything she could have done? If she had gone with him when he asked, gone into hiding, could she have found a way to keep him from fighting? To protect him from the explosion that had been his death?

And Tien, the sweet, kind little Vietnamese girl… her laughing eyes had been extinguished; none of the tricky light in them was to be seen. Her face had not been cold and frozen in laughter. It had been contorted with anguish, a large scar across her left cheek, a gash that went straight through to her mouth, which had been full of congealed blood. Even Sophie had cried at that.

Getting out of bed, dizzy with fear and nausea, Victoria made her way downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water, for anything to get those pictures out of her head, the haunting pictures of the people she had known and loved in their final, bloody hours. How easily that could have been Sophie, Cora, Vi, Victoria herself even?

And then there had been Severus. Throat ripped out by a snake, left to bleed to death by the very ones he had protected so long…. All alone in that decrepit old shack, not a friend in the world…. Would that be how Victoria might have met her own death? She had played both sides so long she wondered who would have thought to look for her if it had been her lying on that shack floor, who might have bothered to cry at her death. The thought made her feel even sicker.

"Toria?" said a now-familiar voice from behind her. "Is everything all right? It is rather late."

She summoned all of her inner strength and attempted to piece together a smile as Severus lit his wand between them.

"Just having a hard time sleeping, thought I'd come and have something to drink."

"Let me take care of that," he said softly. "You have a seat."

He must have seen her shaking. She acquiesced and sat, fighting a losing battle against the tears that were forming rapidly in her eyes, threatening to fall.

"What were you thinking of, if you don't mind me asking?" he whispered, setting glass of water in front of her.

She bit her lip. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't. Everything was fine. She wouldn't let him see her like this.

"It's all right, you know," he croaked, "to be whoever you need to be with me. It's safe to let go here. There's no one to impress, nothing to hide. For, everything you've seen, everything you've thought, everything you've done... I've seen, thought, and done much worse."

As a single tear fell down her cheek, she realized he was right. There was no point in fighting anymore, not around him, not in this place. She had come here to heal, to rebuild herself after the war. To do so, she would need to strip herself down to the main part of the problem. Holding back wouldn't fix anything. Suddenly, the tears were coming down like a flood and she told him of all the things she had seen, all the images that had crossed her mind.

He listened quietly, not interrupting her feverish retelling, merely watching her with his glittering black eyes and rested his large, rough hand gently on her thin arm.

"I wish I could say it will get easier," he said softly, "but I imagine it will only get worse first. I can, however, promise to be here if you ever need anything, and that includes someone to talk to in the middle of the night when the memories are at their worst."

"Thank you, Severus," she whispered, unsure of what else she could say.

They sat in silence for several minutes before he said softly, "Would you like me to escort you back to your room?"

She nodded and he stood beside her, holding out his arm for her to help herself to her feet with. The journey back up to her room was a blur, but she knew his warm frame helped her to weakly maneuver the path, helping her along every step of the way.

/-/

Severus tucked the girl into bed, seeing that she was completely exhausted and knowing she would not wake up in the night. He wanted so badly to touch her cheek, to watch her sleep, but if he stayed only a little while he would not be able to make himself leave, and what would she think when she found him watching her come morning? It simply wouldn't do.

So he made his way downstairs, searching the cupboards for something, anything, to take his mind off the angel sleeping in his childhood room upstairs. That bed where he had spent so many nights, wishing his father was dead, pretending to be asleep in hopes that if that man looked in he would leave him be, dreaming about Lily Evans….

But that was before the war, either war. That was before his father strangled his mother and shot himself in a drunken rage, before Voldemort killed Lily, before Severus sold his soul to Dumbledore out of love of her memory. That little boy didn't exist anymore. Lily Evans was dead, her son was safe, Dumbledore was dead…. Severus was free.

But free to do what? He would teach, as he always had. He would continue to brew potions. Potions had been one of her favorite subjects. But all of his spare time had been devoted to serving two masters and watching out for the safety of his students… three in particular who didn't seem to be able to watch out for themselves. Now what would he do?

There was a beautiful young woman in his bedroom, or rather, the bedroom he had once lived in. Not slept in, lived in. He had spent almost all of his childhood in that room or in the park, watching Lily Evans.

It was amazing how much Victoria Lane resembled her. For a moment, as he was tucking her into bed, he had a memory of standing over a fourteen-year-old Lily, that night in August when she had talked him into sleeping under the stars together, in the park, the day they got their Hogwarts letters.

Ah, there it was, the Firewhiskey. He didn't drink the stuff regularly. It wasn't pleasant to taste and certainly did a number on one's reflexes, but he was alone, the war was over, and all he needed was to forget her. Her? Who?

Lily. He needed to forget Lily. Maybe... but….

Victoria. He needed to forget her as well.

So much forgetting to do. He'd better get started.

He pulled a glass out of a nearby cupboard and filled it halfway. He lifted it to eye level, gazing at the amber liquid with an expression that might have suggested curiosity, had anyone been around to see it. Before he had time to think about what his expression might have suggested about his state of mind, he lifted the rim to his lips and downed the drink in one.

One.

He poured another.

Lily had hated drinking. She used to complain about those silly Marauders, as they called themselves, and how they managed to get the whole of Gryffindor drunk after Quidditch matches, even ones James Potter didn't play in. She never read too much into why they had done it, but Severus knew: James Potter was trying to get her drunk and Sirius Black was trying to get everything else in a skirt drunk. It worked for Black, but Potter probably wondered for quite a while why it wasn't working for him. He wouldn't, of course, have been observant enough to notice that Lily didn't drink. But she married him anyway and it got her killed. Foolish girl.

Two.

He poured another.

He remembered an incident, years ago…. How many years? Oh, it didn't matter now, but years ago, when a group of students, mainly Gryffindor, were caught wandering the halls late at night, drinking and incredibly underage…. Third year? Fourth? Third, he thought. Victoria had been among them, but she had been sober. The Weasley twins had been involved; he thought they may have orchestrated the whole thing.

May have. Ha, of course they had. They lived to orchestrate more paperwork for Severus.

Severus had been called, but not because of the Weasley twins. Two of his own House had been involved and he made sure that Miss Hampson and Miss MacCarrick were properly disgusted with their behavior by the time he was through with them.

Three.

He poured another.

Wasn't he supposed to be forgetting something? He had forgotten. Something…. No, no, someone. He was supposed to be forgetting someone.

Lily. That's who he was forgetting. Or rather, who he was supposed to be forgetting. Her beautiful auburn hair: that gorgeous dark red. Those eyes… those green eyes…. He had thought he was going to die thinking of her, looking into the eyes that so resembled hers, her son's eyes. What did it matter that it hadn't really been her? They were still her eyes. Why couldn't he have just been allowed to die with that one last sight?

Four.

He poured another.

Victoria. She had saved him; she had been the reason he couldn't have died with that one last sight. Well, her and the Weasley, but that was irrelevant.

And the first sight when he had woken up was her eyes - so very much like Lily's - and in his delirium, identical. Now that the delirium was past he could see the differences. They were subtle, but to an eye as well attuned to these matters as his, an eye with so much vested interest, they were worlds apart.

Five.

He poured another.

Worlds apart…. That wasn't to say that Victoria wasn't just as beautiful as Lily Evans. She was truly a wondrous creature, perhaps even more beautiful…. No. No.

Nobody was more beautiful than Lily. Even if it were true he couldn't allow himself to think such things. He had made a promise.

Six.

He poured another.

Seven.

He poured another.

Promise… to who? He never promised Lily a thing while alive, as he should have done. She wouldn't have hated him so much. Of course he thought of doing so only after she was already dead.

No, he had promised Dumbledore. Dumbledore, who was also dead. Dumbledore who had used him, Dumbledore who had forced him to do what he didn't want to, for that bloody _Greater Good_. But he was dead, and Severus was beholden to none.

Eight.

He poured another.

Beholden to none.

Nine.

He poured another.

He wondered vaguely how Victoria would find him in the morning. Would he make it back to his room, or would he accidentally go to hers? Would he not even make it to the stairs, perhaps, and pass out somewhere on the first floor? She would probably be frightened with the state he would be in, perhaps panic. If she cared about him at all.

That would be a change, someone caring about him. Someone wanting to make sure he was okay. That wouldn't be a familiar thing at all. His soul…. Dumbledore was dead…. What sort of state was his soul in now? She wouldn't want him anyway.

Who? Who was he talking about? Lily? Victoria?

Did it matter?

Ten.

And he poured another… another… another… another… and he poured, and poured, and poured….

And eventually, somewhere in his path to forgetting (what was he forgetting?), he slid off the stool, his face feeling the welcome coolness of the hard tile floor, and the world faded to black.

**A/N: Sorry about my horrific lack of updating. Midterms and all that. I had a few minutes before breakfast and should have been working on French, but I got this idea and had to write it out for you guys. Read and review and I'll try so hard to make the next update quicker! BTW, if you're looking for something else to read, might I suggest **_**Maybe I Know**_**? It's a Sirius Black/OC fic, dual POV co-written by myself and the lovely **_**xyellowconverse**_**. It's on her profile, so go and check it out!**

**-C**


	3. One Step Closer

Victoria awakened to the sound of… no, there were no birds chirping. Well, there ought to have been. It was the right time of day for it. She glanced around the room she was in, the room she had been walked back to by Severus the night before. Alone.

But of course she was alone, why would she have been otherwise? He was her former professor, old enough to be her father. It would have been inappropriate for him to have stayed and watch her sleep, and he certainly had no professional obligation to do so.

However, as she tried to convince herself that her own watching of Severus's sleeping form in the hospital wing had been professional obligation, she knew it was some sort of fascination. She knew it was really because of all the stories she had been told about his life during the war.

She tried to remember waking up beside Fred, before he had gone into hiding. It was a distant memory, slippery as oil as she tried desperately to grasp it, the feel of his warm body next to hers, his sweet breath against her neck, the way he would pull her back to him when she tried to get up before he was fully awake. They were happy moments that seemed as though they were from someone else's life. She had forgotten what it felt like to feel that happy, and it didn't seem as though she had deserved those moments, anyway.

They obviously haven't meant as much to her as they had to him, as she had refused to join him in hiding and continue them. Now she would never have them again, and she would wake up alone all the time – no warm body, no sweet breath, no strong arms… Fred was gone forever.

Lost in her bitter thoughts of Fred, Victoria changed quickly into presentable clothes, freshened up, and went downstairs to get herself something to eat. Severus didn't appear to be in the kitchen, she saw as she stepped in. Perhaps he was still asleep. She would be quiet.

However, as she made her way across the room, Victoria noticed his body sprawled out on the floor and she instantly panicked. It was like the war, the hospital, the devastated scenes she had cleaned up for the past year… all over again, except it was just this one man on the floor, and she was all by herself.

"Severus," she gasped, dropping to her knees beside him, instinctively checking for signs of life, feeling for a pulse as her eyes searched the room. The pulse was there, but faint. On the counter she saw two and a half empty bottles of Firewhiskey and a shot glass. The fool.

When she woke him up an hour later, she had fixed him up, forced a few potions down his throat, and proceeded to scold him for terrifying her like that.

"You ought to know that there's still many high-profile Death Eaters on the loose, and what they wouldn't give for your head on a platter," she spat at him. He merely smirked. "You think this is funny?"

"No," he drawled back at her, his voice beginning to regain the silky, dangerous quality it had had before the war. "I was simply musing how all red-headed women seem to have ferocious tempers and incredibly short fuses."

It was difficult not to smile a little bit at that. He certainly looked pathetic, smirking up at her as she panicked like a fretful mother.

"How are you feeling, then?" she sighed, unable to think of anything else to berate him for.

"Better," he muttered. "Better now."

"Why did you do it?" she whispered. "Why the drinking? Are you unhappy?"

He looked up at her, frowning slightly, but the thoughtful sort of frown as though he was considering telling her something. Instead, he shook his head lightly and whispered, "It doesn't matter. Don't worry about me. I'll start on that potion today. Merlin knows you're probably itching to get back into the world and find your own place. Do you have work?"

"No," she said, just realizing it herself. "I forgot to tell Sophie that I didn't have to work at Hogwarts anymore. Vi's been covering my shifts at St. Mungo's, and she's supposed to through the end of the month. I suppose I ought to go back in."

"No," he said forcefully. "You nearly worked yourself to death at Hogwarts. I'm not letting you go back until you've had some proper sleep."

"That puts a bit of a timeline on that potion, then," she joked gently, "because I have to go in next month whether you're done with it or not, and I don't imagine I'll start having a lot of solid sleep without it."

"No," he agreed, "I can't imagine you would. I'll get going on that right away."

He got right up and ran down to a basement, slamming the door and locking it shut behind him. Victoria frowned. Had she honestly expected Professor Snape to be social with her? It was Snape, the one professor who had never once praised her for a job well done, despite the fact that she always received top marks in his classes.

But then, they had been socializing in their own way ever since he had woken up in the Hogwarts infirmary. They had had conversations, serious and silly, deep and fluffy. She never would have believed if someone had told her just weeks earlier that she would be living with her former Potions Master and actually feel rejected when he didn't want her company, but here she was, stung with how quickly he had darted off to work on the potion that would mean she had to leave. What if she didn't want to leave?

But that was absurd. What would George think of her then, willingly living with Severus Snape, the grouchy old double-agent, greasy hair and menacing smirk? He would probably think Snape had cursed her, or tricked her into taking some sort of Potion. Then again, maybe he would say it was her true Slytherin coming out, that she had been placed in the wrong House after all.

There was something about Snape, though. He hadn't been himself since he woke up to find the war over. His storming off to the basement was the closest thing to his typical behavior that he had done. He had been incredibly kind to her, caring and considerate. He hadn't needed to help her, but he was. She had, after all, only been doing her job when she saved his life and cared for him. This, this housing her and feeding her and helping her… it went well beyond anything that resembled his job description.

It suddenly occurred to Victoria that she didn't know what to do with herself while she was staying with him. He would be brewing the potion, and she was sure he wouldn't want her sitting there as he did so. That meant she would be by herself. He had told her the house was safe… perhaps she could explore.

Without too much trepidation, she began to wander the house. It was small. There weren't many rooms. She stumbled across a room that might have been a living room of sorts, but Snape had obviously turned it into a study. There were many books she recognized, things she had used during school or her Healer training; and many books she had never seen before, odd tomes written in runes and scrolls appearing to date back to the founders of Hogwarts.

"I wouldn't touch that book if I were you, Toria," said a voice behind her, the voice of Severus, of course, as her hand stretched out for the nearest one. She turned around quickly, feeling crimson fill her cheeks. "I thought you had gotten an Outstanding in Runes for your O.W.L."

"Yes," she muttered, "but I got a Dreadful in the N.E.W.T. I didn't need it to be a Healer so I just didn't study."

"That would explain it," he said with a smirk. "You know if you had touched that your hand would have been severely burned. I was wondering if you wanted some lunch."

Victoria frowned a little about her near misfortune.

"Oh, all right. That would be great."

"There is a deli on the next street over," he said. "Would you care to come with me to get us something?"

Leave the house. She was getting to get out into fresh air, something she hadn't done in quite a while.

"Yes, of course," she replied grabbing her wand and following him out of the house.

Of course, she would be disappointed by the air quality. It was, after all, an industrial area, and "fresh" was not a word Victoria should have used to describe the air. In fact, she was honestly considering a Bubble-Head Charm when Severus led her into a small, locally-owned deli on the corner.

It smelled delicious. Victoria hadn't been inside a Muggle deli in a very long time, and the smell of fresh meats, cheeses, bread… it was intoxicating. Severus asked her if she had any preferences, and when she said she didn't, he ordered them some turkey sandwiches with minimal fixings, which was fine for Victoria. Fred had always chided her simple tastes in food, but it was easier to order and easier for someone else to make if she kept her list short. It seemed Severus also liked simple foods.

They returned back to the kitchen of his home and ate their sandwiches in virtual silence. When he finished his, Severus said, "I imagine you find waiting around quite dull, especially as there is little in the house to entertain you with."

She wanted to say no, that she was quite content, but he was right. It was incredibly dull. She nodded.

"I will go through the library at some point and remove all of the dangerous texts, but for the time being, if you would like, the Floo is, in fact, connected. You may visit your friends. I do not wish for you to feel like a prisoner here."

"Thank you," Victoria said eagerly. "That would be lovely. I imagine George is worried you've kept me and picked my parts in a jar or something."

Perhaps she imagined it, but she thought that maybe, just maybe, the corners of his lips had turned up in a sort of smile.

"Yes, well, you can go whenever you'd like, just so long as you let me know when you're leaving and where and when you'll be back. Not all of the Death Eaters have been caught and I don't want to sit around wondering. Understood?"

Victoria nodded vigorously, told him she would be at the Burrow for a few hours, and that she hoped to be back by dinner, but that all depended on Molly. Severus nodded and Victoria leapt up and rushed toward the fireplace.

/-/

As soon as she had gone, Severus wished she hadn't left, but he couldn't make her sit around the house with nothing to do. It wasn't fair. So he cleaned up the kitchen quickly and made his way back down to his work. It was difficult, certainly, to deal with such a conundrum as the one Victoria had, but her malady was, fortunately, an uncommon one. Still, that was not something which was likely to make her feel any better.

Part of him knew he would have an answer in a matter of days, and then what? She would be gone, out of his life completely, and he would be alone again, all alone, dreaming of her sweet face at night as he had of Lily's for nearly his entire life. The other part of him lied to himself and said that there was no way he could possibly have a solution for some time yet. He would be fine. She would be around.

But what if that part of him was wrong? Should he lie to her and say he hadn't found it yet, or let her go, let her walk right out of his life?

He knew he ought to let her go, but he couldn't bring himself to think about what life would be like without her. He promised himself five days after he'd found the cure, and five days only, to lie and say he had nothing, and something in the back of his mind hoped that within that time frame he would find some way to make her want to stay without the potion as incentive.

/-/

"What do you mean by 'sweet'?" George asked incredulously. "How can you even use that word in conjunction with that slimeball?"

"George," Harry said in a warning tone from behind his newspaper.

"I'm only saying the man isn't exactly the wizarding Willy Wonka!" George cried. "He's not passing around chocolates and bringing smiles to the faces of children! He's passing out failing grades and reducing eleven-year-olds to nervous breakdowns over hot, steamy cauldrons of goop!"

"Yes, thank you for that lovely picture," Victoria snapped. "I'll have you know, he's been nothing but lovely to me."

"Yeah, well, you also happen to be a dead ringer for his lost love," George said dismissively, crossing his legs at his ankles as he propped them up on the table. "No disrespectful pun intended."

"Feet off the table, George," Mrs. Weasley snapped, waving her wand and causing George to lose his balance and tumble to the floor. There was overall appreciative laughter, even from George himself, as he climbed to his feet, dusted himself off, and returned to his chair, feet planted firmly on the floor.

"Sorry about that, Mum," he said. "Still a bachelor at heart. Could you maybe just remind me with words next time?"

Mrs. Weasley merely chuckled and went back to making lunch.

"I think you're judging too harshly," Victoria sighed. "The war changed all of us, George. Have you ever thought that maybe it changed him, too? After all, he very nearly died. That takes an incredible psychological toll on a person."

Before George could make some argument against that, Mrs. Weasley said, "Victoria, will you be having any lunch, dear?"

"Oh, no, thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she said sincerely. "It smells delicious, but I just ate."

"Call me Molly, dear. You're certainly old enough at this point."

"This I have to know," George asked, laughing just a little, "what does he feed you?"

Victoria couldn't hold in the little snicker on her lips at the question, but she said, "There are places to eat near his house. For lunch today, he took me to a deli in the neighborhood. It was very nice. I'd gotten so used to the hospital food I'd forgotten what good food tasted like, not like the stuff at Hogwarts, but the type of good food you get in the Muggle world, with all its imperfections."

"Fred was right about you," George sighed. "You're a woman of simple tastes. Or no taste, I suppose, seeing as you've shacked up with Snape."

"It's not like that, George," she argued for the hundredth time. "I keep telling you, he's trying to help me. He's going to make it so I can sleep again, so I don't have to wait until I pass out from exhaustion to be free of the nightmares. And he's not altogether bad company. After all, he is putting me up in his own home. He didn't have to do that."

"Exactly," George muttered. "He just wanted to be close enough to watch you sleep."

Victoria just rolled her eyes and sighed as Harry balled up the classifieds and tossed them at George's head. Why George insisted on bringing up this notion that Severus was infatuated with her, she didn't know. But then, would it be such a bad thing if it were true? She certainly hadn't minded when he had been practically molesting her at Hogwarts, granted, he hadn't been in his right mind at the time and he caught her off guard. But what if he were to try something again, while he was sober and she was prepared? What would she do?

She had forgotten how easy it was, passing the time with the Weasleys. Even with Fred gone, they felt like her family. Now that she didn't have a family, it felt even more right to spend hours and hours at the Burrow, taking in the scenery. Harry and Ginny were getting closer all the time and Victoria suspected that he would ask Ginny to marry him as soon as she graduated. Ron and Hermione were getting close as well, and as Hermione had elected to return to Hogwarts and finish her N.E.W.T.s rather than help the Ministry round up the remaining Death Eaters, it was likely there would be two proposals at graduation.

After several hours, Molly asked, "Will you be staying for dinner, Toria?"

It was tempting, for a moment, to say yes. It was nice to have family, for once, after spending so long living in a hospital, sleeping in empty beds, when there were empty beds, and on benches when there weren't. Considering they had been at war, empty beds were rather hard to come by. Now, she had a place to live, with Severus, but it was a temporary arrangement. Any time he could come up with a solution and she would be forced to leave. She supposed she could move in with George, although from what Ginny had been telling her about his rapidly progressing relationship with Angelina, she might fell less than welcome. Maybe Sophie would be looking for a flat. No… not Sophie. Sophie was dating that Healer… They'd be moving in together. Vi, perhaps? Cora? There had to be someone she knew looking for a flat who wasn't romantically attached. After all, a war just ended!

Still…

"No, thanks, Molly," Victoria said softly. "Maybe another time. I've got to be getting back. He'll think something's happened to me. It was nice to see you, though."

"And you, dear."

She said her goodbyes and made her way back to Spinner's End by Floo, praying he was still weeks away from finding a solution.


	4. Find the Words

Three days later, Severus sighed. He was so very close to a solution that he wanted to cry. He would have to test the altered component before moving on, and although he wanted very badly to put it off, there was no point. He found Victoria in the kitchen, reading a book he'd fished for her out of the library on ancient wizarding healing practices.

"I've made progress," he announced. "I need to you try something. If it does what I think it will, I am very close to making your potion."

"How close?" she asked, marking the book and setting it aside.

It would take him two days to gather everything he needed and make the potion.

"A week," he said firmly, not betraying the lie in his voice.

"Oh," she said stiffly. "That's good then. What did you want me to try?"

He held out the glass with the altered component, resisting the urge to drop the glass and shatter it, buying himself at least a few hours' time. She reached out, grabbed the glass, and smiled at him before drinking half of it in one gulp.

"How am I supposed to react?" she managed to say, still smiling, but before he could tell her the answer, she had passed out, slipped off the stool she was sitting on, and began convulsing violently on the floor.

His heart began to pound furiously as he cried out her name, sinking to the floor, nearly losing his grip. He quickly summoned a few ingredients, including a bezoar and a potion that would induce vomiting. If he worked quickly, he could get it out of her system before any permanent damage was caused. It was more than a valerian allergy, and he was sure she knew it. Part of him was thrilled that he had more time, but part of him was outraged that she hadn't told him. When her body went limp and her breathing normalized, all he could do was wait for her to wake to confront her on her lack of forthcoming-ness, and mull over possible solutions to the still unsolved problem.

/-/

Victoria awoke to find Severus standing over her, and she struggled to remember what had happened. The light seemed brighter than usual, although she was aware that it could not be. The same single, dingy lamp was lit, so why did it seem so incredibly and obnoxiously bright? There was something wrong. With a groan, she sat up a little, but Severus pushed her back down.

"You lied to me," he said softly, frowning.

"About?"

"Have you lied more than once?" he hissed.

Ah, that. Yes, she had said she was allergic to valerian roots, but she hadn't given the full extent of her condition.

"I'm sorry."

"You know, I could have accidentally killed you," he said harshly. "You could have died with that component I just had you test, and you're very lucky I'm a Potion's Master and keep many appropriate ingredients and potions on hand."

"I'm sorry."

"You should have told me."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that!"

Her eyes widened, and so did his. He had never raised his voice at her before. Victoria turned away from him, onto her side, remembering George yelling at her for not choosing sides, all but blaming her for Fred's death. She tried to hide her tears, but she knew Severus could tell she was crying.

With a sigh, Severus lifted her into a sitting position and hugged her awkwardly. She didn't even mind that he awkwardly began to stroke her hair.

"I shouldn't have yelled," he muttered. "But you should have told me."

"I know," she sniffed. "But you understand my condition now."

"I could have killed you," he whispered, still stroking her hair, and she couldn't help but noticing how good his fingers felt as they worked across her scalp. "I was so scared, and you were lying there and I–" His voice broke. "I will be able to fix it, now that I know what to do, but it will take more time."

"I'm sorry," she said again, burying her face in his chest.

"Don't be," she could have sworn she heard him whisper.

They stayed like that for quite some time, Severus holding Victoria, letting her cry her tears. She knew he understood what she had gone through with root intolerance. She couldn't take any potions with roots in them. Some reactions were more severe than others, but although most would only cause her to be sick, a few, like valerian and whatever he had used to substitute it, would kill her. As a child, she couldn't understand why her father's potions were off limits, why the things that healed so many other people so easily and made life as a wizard so much more convenient were off-limits to her. And then when she went to Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey unknowingly gave her a Pepper-Up, and she had to be rushed to St. Mungo's. That was when Victoria Lane had been formally diagnosed with root intolerance.

By the time her tears had dried, she was exhausted. Her energy had been depleted by the reaction to the potion, and she was in need of a nap after her distraught reaction to being interrogated by Severus. She felt him lift her up, carry her to her bed, and tuck her in. Perhaps it was her sleepy mind thinking wishfully, but she thought she felt him place a gentle kiss to her temple before leaving her lying alone in the room.

Well, the potion helped her sleep, even though it wasn't quite in the way they had hoped. At least she was alive, she thought before falling deeper into the sleepy darkness and dreamlessness in her mind.

/-/

Severus frowned at his glass of firewhiskey as he thought about the ordeal of nearly killing Victoria. She wasn't allergic to valerian after all, but she had root intolerance. It was a rare condition, but certainly one of the more dangerous conditions. Probably a third of all potions contained roots, and had to contain roots. Probably not all of them would cause her to react so strongly, but it wasn't worth risking even a minor reaction. He needed to get the power of valerian roots in a non-root ingredient. This was going to take more in-depth research than he had originally anticipated.

Throughout the weeks, Victoria would either sit around reading in the kitchen looking far too delicious for her own good, or she would be out visiting her various friends, either Sophie, Cora, Vi, or the Weasley clan. In some ways, Severus was glad when she said she was going out because he wouldn't feel such a desire to stop working and find excuses to be in the kitchen, but he also felt constantly worried that something would happen and she would be out of his reach to protect.

One afternoon she was out with Sophie and Sophie's fiancé and Severus found himself breaking for lunch alone. There was a knock on the door and he frowned. Victoria didn't knock on the door. That made him very proud of himself, actually, that she had come to think of his house as home, of sorts. So who could be calling?

It was Potter.

"Hello, sir," Potter said, rather politely. Severus felt very suspicious. "Is Toria in?"

"No, she's out visiting friends," Severus sneered.

"I see," Potter said cheerily. "Do you know about when she'll be back?"

Severus frowned and looked at his watch.

"She's due back in about an hour and a half."

Potter paused for a moment, checked his own watch, and said, "Would I be allowed to wait for her? We found her father's will and we need to go over some things with her. Kingsley sent me, as I'm acquainted with her."

"Of course," Severus said. Frowning, he decided he really ought to be civil, as the boy had been to him. "Would you like some tea?"

Potter blinked.

"Yes, thank you."

Severus led Potter into the kitchen and hurried himself to make some tea. It felt odd, having Harry Potter, son of James Potter, sitting in his kitchen, waiting for tea, but Severus reminded himself that the war was over, Potter had proven himself bigger than Severus had expected, and now he was sitting in the kitchen of Spinner's End.

"Thank you," Potter said, accepting the tea. "How has she been?"

"I thought you'd seen her at the Burrow?" Severus said, stirring a bit of firewhiskey into his own tea.

"Yes, I have," Potter nodded. "But when she's at the Burrow, she's putting on a show for George and she's all smiles, and anyway, if she had been moping Molly would have insisted that she smile, and you know how Toria likes to please people."

Severus tried not to think of the mental image those words had just conjured up, of her on her knees, pleasing him…

"Anyway, is she all right?"

"She is largely unchanged," Severus admitted. "I believe she has been sleeping better, and she certainly appears to be marginally happier, but that could simply be from having time off work to spend on herself."

"May I ask, sir," Potter said slowly, "what your intentions are with her?"

Severus stiffened. Had he been so transparent in his desire for the girl? Had Potter seen through his mask so effectively? He frowned, especially as he felt a careful prodding on his mind. The boy had learned Legilimency? Luckily, Severus's shields were always up. Severus snarled.

"You thought such an assault would work on me, Potter?" he hissed. "You know that I never let down my shields."

"Yes," Potter said with a smile, "but it was worth a try. Very few people are even aware that Hermione and I learned Legilimency–"

Severus sighed. The Granger girl had learned the art as well? The world wasn't safe, giving her knowledge like that. Still, that wasn't the matter at hand.

"Regardless," Severus drawled, "what exactly were you hoping to gain from such an assault?"

Potter grinned.

"As I'm sure you've guessed, there have been questions as to you actual intentions with Toria. You see, she's a very pretty girl–"

"I'd noticed," Severus growled.

The grin turned into something very close to a smirk, but Potter managed to straighten out his features a little and say, "You like her, don't you, sir?"

Severus could hardly believe that he was sitting in his kitchen discussing his less-than-love life with James Potter's son, but there he was. Life was full of incredibly cruel irony.

"It really doesn't matter what I think, Potter," Severus snarled weakly, "because she's far too good for someone like me, and obviously has no interest in me whatsoever."

"I wouldn't say that," Potter said, sipping his tea to hide what was very clearly a smirk. "She defends you constantly to George and others, and when I hear her talk to Ginny and Hermione she speaks with incredible fondness. The fact is, sir, I happen to believe strongly that you have a chance with her, and Ginny and Hermione agree, if you play your hand correctly, and I'm willing to help, if you'll let me."

Severus narrowed his eyes. He couldn't ignore the way his heart clenched with fear and hope at the thought that Victoria Lane might actually feel even a fraction of what he felt for her. But this was Potter. Still, the boy hadn't given Severus any reason to be suspicious of him after the war, and had indeed personally funded all necessary materials for Severus's recovery, as Minerva had mentioned in their talk about Severus's future with Hogwarts. It would seem that the boy was making amends, or at the very least clearing some sort of debt between the two of them.

It was very true that the boy owed him much, his life, even.

"And if I were interested," Severus said slowly, not meeting those knowing green eyes, "what would you suggest I do?"

"Well," Potter said slowly, "the first thing I would suggest is to actually tell her nice things. Say she looks pretty or smells nice, or, I don't know, whatever it is you think about her when you think nice things that remind you why you like her."

What did he think of?

Severus thought of how he wanted to climb on top of her and ravish her body until she begged for mercy.

Somehow, he didn't think that was the sort of thing Potter was referring to.

He would start small. He would tell her she looked pretty. That was a good start.

"She'll be back soon," Severus said coolly, clearly and obviously dismissing his former student, who took the hint rather quickly.

"I'll be by at another time," Potter said brightly, "to check on your progress and give you some more hints, if you'll take them."

With that, Potter walked out the front door and Disapparated.

As soon as he was alone again, Severus began practicing his new task. He cleared his throat and began to talk to the tea kettle as though it were Victoria.

"Toria," he said gruffly, "you look very pretty."

Awful. It sounded as though he was talking to a tea kettle, and he couldn't speak to her like that.

After several tries, Severus thought he might have it down, and he began fidgeting, making dinner, wishing she would hurry up and come home so he didn't lose his nerve….

And then he realized that he considered his house her home. He wondered if she thought of it that way, as well, absently, without realizing she did so. Severus wished she would, wished that somewhere in the back of her mind she had some affinity for him and the place they were together.

Finally he heard her coming back through the front door and he was thrilled he'd finished dinner.

It shouldn't be difficult to say, he thought, looking at her as she walked in looking very pretty indeed, her face flushed with excitement, obviously pleased with her day. Somehow, though, actually choking out the words was proving more difficult than it ought to have been.

"Good evening," she said with a smile, and that smile nearly did him in. So beautiful… so… so… He couldn't think of the word he was looking for.

"You… you look v-very… you look…"

Her eyes widened with fear.

"What?" she asked. "Is it my hair? Or is there something on my face? I told George I didn't want any of his sweets, but he insisted!"

"No," he said quickly, shaking his head vigorously as she looked about to go into a tirade. "No, you look perfect."

She blinked and he realized he hadn't said the words he'd meant to say, but somehow it sounded better than all the times he'd practiced.

"Very pretty," he muttered as she stared at him, surprised, but he turned back to making dinner. He wondered if he'd mucked it up by saying something he hadn't meant to say.

"Oh," she muttered. "Thank you."

Her looks were not brought up again for the rest of the night and there was a tension at dinner that made Severus question if he had done the right thing, taking Potter's advice. Yes, Potter's love life was a bit more flourishing than Severus's, but the Weasley girl had hero-worshiped him. He had been her childhood crush. Somehow Severus doubted that either of those things was working in his favor with Victoria Lane. He had been no one's childhood crush, sadly not even Lily's.

She went to bed without further comment on his compliment and Severus went straight back to work on attempting to solve the problem of her allergy. He assumed, naturally, that she would want nothing more to do with him after such an awkward and unwelcome declaration as the one he had made, and it would be most courteous of him to hurry along with his work so that she could go somewhere she felt more comfortable sooner rather than later. There was quite a lot of work to be done, but he was well convinced that he could do it soon, given the need.

He thought, briefly, about drinking away his worries, but that wouldn't do. She would find him again, insist he stop worrying her like that, interrogate him as to the catalyst of his behavior and what could he say to her? That he was madly in love with her and utterly depressed by the absolute sureness that she could never love him? With as much trouble as he had telling her she was pretty, he didn't think it would quite come out of his mouth in the way it ought to do, and certainly wouldn't be half as well received. His heart couldn't take that.

What Severus didn't know what that Victoria was lying awake in her room, staring at the ceiling, turning over his words in her mind, wondering exactly what he'd meant when he'd referred to her as "pretty" and "perfect". If he had known, he might not have been so eager to push her out of his home, but as he saw it, she was too good for him, and it was only a matter of time before she discovered that there were better options in the world for her. All perfect girls figured that out, sooner or later.

Severus buried his face in his hands and prayed to he didn't even know what that somehow things would right themselves, whatever that meant. Either she would suddenly understand his feelings for her and return them or she would wise up and leave and the pain of the lack of resolution would be gone in Severus.

Resolution. That was what he needed, whatever that meant. He just hoped against hope that it might not be too late to find some way to make her see how desperately he needed her.

And maybe, he hated to think, just maybe he needed to have another quick word with Potter.


	5. Spontaneous, Reckless, In Love

Severus was pacing the kitchen. He'd finished the sleeping potion, perfected it, gotten it to the point where he was sure it would work. He was terrified.

Not that there would be some sort of problem with his potion, but that it would work perfectly, as he knew it would. Victoria would drink the potion, sleep well, and be gone in the amount of time it took her to find somewhere else to stay, which couldn't be long with Weasley help. There was power in numbers.

She would come into the kitchen for breakfast any minute looking beautiful in her rumpled sleep clothes, her hastily put-up hair, and with her bags under her eyes from another night of nightmare-laced almost-sleep. She would sit down, ask him how his night was, and he would say... What would he say? That he'd finished her sleeping potion and she should test it quickly and get out of his life before he made a fool of himself and showed too much of his hand? That he didn't want her to go and would she stay with him forever so that he didn't have to be alone anymore?

Somehow each possibility sounded more terrifying and ridiculous than the last, and just when Severus thought he couldn't be any more confused, Victoria entered the kitchen. He looked exactly as Severus knew she would in his mind's eye, sitting down at the table and smiling sweetly at him with her tired expression. What was he going to do?

"Good morning," Victoria said, stifling a sweet little yawn. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," Severus managed to say. "I've, um, finished."

"Finished what?" she asked innocently, clearly not completely awake yet.

"Your potion," he said firmly, clearing his throat. "I've finished your sleeping potion. I suppose this means..."

He looked at her, wondering what she might think it meant.

"That I'll finally be able to sleep," she said with a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Severus. You're sure this one's going to work?"

"Absolutely sure," he said reluctantly. "Victoria, I-"

"Toria," she corrected absently.

"Toria," he sighed. "Right. I... You'll be leaving, now, I suppose, going back to work and... and finding a place to live and... and leaving me."

She blinked up at him thoughtfully, the expression so flattering to her pretty green eyes that he half wanted to kiss her in spite of himself.

"I suppose I will have to go to work," she conceded slowly. "And if you think I should leave-"

"No," he said quickly, fighting back the flushing in his cheeks. "I mean, it's not that I think... I mean, rather, if you wish to stay I...I..."

Victoria blinked at him, tilting her head to the side, considering.

"I suppose you want your house to yourself?" she said finally. "I personally don't like living alone; it's rather lonely. But you were always very much a loner."

"Not by choice," he said sadly, "but by necessity. I... My life forced me to be alone. But that's over now. The war is won."

"The war is won," she said softly. "So, so what does that change for you? I mean, you don't have to be a spy anymore. I guess... I don't know, what does it mean for you?"

"It means," Severus said, clearing his throat and considering his words very carefully. "It means that I'm free of my debts and my oaths. It means that I can start my life over. It means that I am free to pursue... whatever strikes at my heart."

He watched her, hopeful, waiting, inwardly beseeching her to understand how much he wanted her to stay.

"What strikes at your heart?" she asked softly, picking a bit at the counter and not meeting his eyes.

Before he could stop himself, the word tumbled out of his mouth, and there was no taking it back:

"You."

Her head jerked so that her pretty green eyes met his black ones, searching them as if wondering whether she'd heard him right. Severus didn't know what to do, what to say. His mouth clamped shut, held that way by fear of what she might do, might say.

"Me?" she whispered.

Severus couldn't speak, couldn't nod, so he just stared at her. She blinked back at him and he could feel his stomach twist as he waited for some sort of sign about what she was thinking and feeling. And then, to his surprise, she tentatively reached out and touched his cheek. His eyes flickered closed and he found himself leaning into her touch. With his eyes, closed, more vulnerable than he had allowed himself to be with another human being since his talks with Dumbledore, he didn't realized Victoria had stepped closer until her lips softly pressed against his, causing his breath to catch as he wondered if he'd not woken up yet.

The kiss was the trigger, though, and it didn't take long for Severus to begin returning the kiss with fervor, cautiously wrapping his arms around her, feeling her hands as they explored his hair. He parted his lips just a little, allowing her to do the same, fitting their lips together like a puzzle. As Severus grazed her lower lip gently with his teeth, she moaned softly into his mouth, causing a shiver to run through his body. Did she know how intoxicating that sound was? Did she understand that its power was twice as strong when coupled with the vibrations it caused?

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, kissing cautiously, both acutely aware that they weren't crossing lines that could never be recrossed with every touch, every gesture, every taste. Eventually, though, she pulled out of the kiss, panting as she looked up at him again. Severus looked at her expressionlessly, not wanting to influence what she might say or do. He so badly wanted to just kiss her again and pretend like nothing else mattered, especially with the way her sweet lips looked all swollen and freshly-kissed.

"Wow," she breathed. "Why didn't we do that before?"

He couldn't help but smile a little at that, brushing his thumb across her smooth cheek.

"Because," he said in his soft, smooth baritone voice, "it's foolishness."

"What is?" she asked, frowning.

"The hope that... that you might look at me and not see a disgusting old man, tired and broken from the years of war. It's what I am. You know that."

"Of course it's not," she said, almost sounding upset. "You're brave, loyal, brilliant... and... and attractive."

Severus blinked. Could she really think him attractive? Could this angel truly look at him and not hate him for what he'd done?

Without thinking, he kissed her again, allowing his inner desires to take over as he pulled her close, letting her hands wandering across his chest and back through the fabric of his robes. The vulnerability, the opening himself up to another person was entirely knew for Severus, but maybe Potter was right. Maybe being open and honest was the sort of thing Severus needed to do to actually win Victoria's affections.

And maybe he'd already won them. It was a strange, foreign sort of thought, but the vigor and hunger with which she was returning his kisses led Severus to believe that perhaps Potter had been right about quite a few things.

"Don't go," Severus said in a fit of bravery her kisses had brought on. "Stay with me."

"You mean that?" she said breathlessly.

"Stay."

"I'll take that as a yes," she said, amused, her lips upturning slightly into a small grin. "Of course I'll stay. I love it here."

Severus kissed her again, and there was something different in their pace and passion. He was surprised when her fingers began lingering on the buttons of his robes. Would he let her shed that layer of protection, feeble though it was proving against his desire for her?

He moved his fingers to hers, guiding her gently in undoing the buttons as their lips stayed exploring each other. When the buttons were all undone, Severus shrugged off his robes and moaned slightly when her fingers pulled his tucked-in shirt out from his trousers and she continued to undo the buttons.

Severus couldn't help but notice the hesitation with which she was peeling off his shirt. Was it because it was him, or because she was generally inexperienced. Then her hand trembled and he knew she didn't know what she was doing.

"We don't have to-"

"I know," she whispered. "I want to, only... Only I don't know much. If you want, if you..."

"Yes," Severus whispered, shrugging off his shirt and revealing his pale chest. "Not here."

Victoria nodded, allowing him to take her hand and lead her up to his bedroom. They stood beside the bed, looking at each other for a moment before Victoria hesitantly reached a hand up and stroked his chest, tangling her fingers up in the silky black hairs there. He bit his lip, reveling in her touch. Eyes closed with his instinct to guide him, he brushed his fingers into her silky red hair, loving the feel of the strands in her hair between his fingers.

She kissed him, moving his other hand to the hem of her shirt, which he took as an invitation to remove. The kiss parted long enough to lift the cotton fabric over her head and reveal her delicious upper body before he crashed his lips into hers once more. He wasn't waiting for invitations anymore, allowing his fingers to explore the lush skin of her torso, to unhook and toss aside the bra that had been hiding her beautiful breasts from him.

They both shivered slightly and Severus gently guided her to the bed where he kneeled before her, pressing his mouth to her left breast and kissing the milky skin. A moan from her told him he was on the right track and he took the nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking until a sheen of sweat could be seen and she wriggled under his attentions.

Then he switched to the other breast and did it all over again. She was moaning his name in no time at all.

When they got to that point, he kissed down her stomach, stopping at the waistband of the sleep shorts that she wore. For a moment he lingered there, his fingers hooking the waistband at her hips and bracing himself to bare even more of her skin.

In a single motion, he pulled both her sleep shorts and her lacy red knickers down her legs and tossed them aside, exhaling appreciatively at the sight of her stretched out before him, completely bare and vulnerable. How many times had he fantasized about this very sight?

He took her right leg and kissed the length of it slowly from her ankle up to her inner thigh. Just when he could feel her whole body quivering in anticipation, he moved to her left leg and repeated the trail. Her moans of protest cut off quickly, morphing into whimpers of desire as he grew ever closer to her warm, wet center.

He'd never actually used his mouth to pleasure a woman. But as Victoria was already quite pleased with his actions and it felt like the natural thing to do, he began to lap up her juices eagerly, lingering where she made the more incredibly sounds and reveling in the exquisite taste of her. How had he never done it before?

The answer to that was easy, though. He'd never been with Victoria before, he'd never had the desire to give a witch he'd had access to so much pleasure.

And she was certainly greatly pleased, writhing on the end of his tongue, moaning his name, gripping the sheets as she came. He maintained her climax almost unintentionally by eagerly lapping up the rush of juices that accompanied it.

Then Severus slithered up her body, pressing his lips on her skin randomly as he went.

"That was incredible," she sighed when he reached her neck.

"That was nothing," Severus said in his low, deep voice, preparing himself to enter her and thrusting.

It had taken a bit for her discomfort of her first time to fade into the pleasure he so decided to give to her, but it had been quick enough that they'd had plenty of time to enjoy the euphoria of moving together.

"You're right," Victoria gasped. "_That_ was incredible."

Severus smiled proudly against her hair as she cuddled her naked body against his, her face nuzzling his neck. He'd never felt more pleased with himself, holding her in his arms. But a terrifying thought crossed his mind.

"You're staying, are you not?" he said softly, feeling much of his proud emotion slipping away at the fear that she might not want to live in his house anymore. Some women were like that, not wanting to stay with a man they were sleeping with. He wasn't sure what young women thought proper anymore.

"If you'll have me," she sighed against his skin. "I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

The pride was back in full force as Severus smiled to himself.

Weeks turned into months. Victoria went back to work at the hospital and Severus brewed potions, even creating and patenting many of his own creations, including the improved sleeping potion he'd formulated for Victoria. Root intolerance was rare, but it would help the few who suffered from it. He devoted himself to finding ways to make up for root intolerance in all potions that were commonly used.

When Christmas was on the horizon, however, Severus recognized that his blossoming relationship with Victoria needed a direction, and he also accepted that he needed help.

Walking down the street of Godric's Hollow was surreal, to say the least. For so long he had thought of it as the place Lily had died, the place that held her grave. It was a painful location for him, even more so with what he was about to do.

Of course, the Weasley girl had to be there when Severus knocked. In fact, she answered the door.

"Oh, Professor!" she said, surprised. "Um, did you need Harry for something?"

"I wish to speak with Mr. Potter, yes," Severus said tightly.

"Right, come on in, then," she said brightly, leading him into the cottage. "Harry! You've a visitor!"

Potter came downstairs tiredly, but he perked up with surprise when he saw Severus.

"Professor," he said, blinking with confusion. "Can I, um, help you with something?"

"Yes," Severus said, shifting awkwardly as the two former students watched him expectantly. "Yes, I wish to speak with you in private."

"Of course," Potter said, slowly. "Ginny, didn't you have some Christmas shopping to do?"

"Yes, I did," she said quickly. "I'll just get my cloak and be out of your way. Pleasure seeing you, Professor."

Severus didn't know what to say to that. She certainly seemed to mean it, for whatever reason, so he grunted noncommittally and watched her leave the cottage.

"So," Potter said, "would you like some tea, Professor?"

"Yes, I think that would be agreeable," Severus said, trying to find his footing as he followed Potter into the kitchen. When they sat down at the kitchen table with tea, Severus said, "I need to ask your advice on something. I haven't really got anyone to discuss such things with you proved... insightful in the past."

"All right," Potter said with a smile. "What's the situation?"

Severus cleared his throat and said, "I'm considering asking Toria to marry me."

Potter smiled.

"That's great! What were you going to ask me, then?"

Severus just looked down at his hands. He didn't know how to say what was bothering him, what his fears where, what he didn't know. It was hard enough talking to Potter about anything in his life, but this... Well, if he'd had anyone else to turn to, he would have.

Potter seemed to understand, though, probably that bit of his mother in him. He nodded thoughtfully into the silence between them and said, "If you don't mind, I think we should get George and have him help us get a ring for her. What do you think?"

Severus hesitated. He wasn't sure how he felt about getting Weasley involved in the whole mess, but he _did_ know her better than anyone but Severus himself...

"All right," he finally conceded.

/-/

Christmas morning found Severus turning the small box over and over in his hands as he ignored the cup of tea Victoria had set before him at the kitchen table before saying she was going to take a shower and that she would be back in a minute to make breakfast.

When she came back and kissed his cheek, he grabbed her hand before she walked around behind him to start making breakfast. She turned and looked at him, confused and surprised. He looked up at her, the box hidden under the table, where he'd quickly put in when he heard her footsteps approaching.

"I have something important to talk with you about," he said softly. "It's a very important question and I've decided this is really the best time to bring it up, if that's all right."

"Do you want to wait until you've eaten?" she said lightly, not comprehending exactly what he was saying. "Usually important decisions are best left for after food..."

"No," he said firmly. "No, this shouldn't wait."

Victoria frowned slightly, sitting down beside him, looking at him expectantly. Severus summoned all of his courage, imagined what it would be like, her wearing his ring on her finger, growing his child inside of her... The swell of pride that filled him was enough to go on and he smiled.

He moved the box in his hand, taking it out from under the table. She looked down at it questioningly and without another moment's hesitation Severus opened it to her and said, "Will you be my wife?"


	6. Epilogue

**A/N: This chapter, the final chapter of this story, is dedicated to **_**The Prince's Phoenix**_**, who just alerted and favorited this story. I want to thank all of you who've read and reviewed this story. You guys have been amazing! I would like to announce that a project I'm beginning when I'm done with this is a Percy/OC. I've yet to think up a title. I do take requests, so if there's something you'd like to see, let me know! I've gotten a request for a particular dynamic in a Hermione/Severus, and that is now on my list of fics to write. Again, hope you all enjoy. I know I've loved this.**

** -J**

"Mum."

Victoria groaned, rolling over into the firm, warm chest that was attached to the arms that were loosely wrapped around her.

"_Mum_."

She grumbled unintelligible words into the chest, ignoring the rumble of laughter that came from the core of the chest.

"Dad, make her wake up."

"I can't make your mother do anything she doesn't want to do, Roxy. Go wake your brother and I'll make breakfast. She was up late last night."

"But Daddy," the girl began to whine.

"Roxana Tryphosa Snape, if you don't go wake Damian, you're not getting your owl for the whole year, is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Daddy," the girl muttered, scurrying out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind the girl, Victoria felt the arms shift, and the chest, and the lips that had just been chastising their daughter were suddenly on her collarbone, tracing their way down her chest, pushing aside the top of her silk nightgown and grazing the top of her breasts.

"Mmm," she moaned. "Severus, that feels so good."

"I'm glad you think so," he whispered, his lips back up at her ear and the silky baritone of his voice making her shiver. "You have until I'm finished making breakfast to shower and dress before we take our children to Hogwarts. Roxy's particularly anxious."

Yes, Victoria mused, running her fingers through her husband's hair as she opened her eyes slowly to find him watching her with his shining black eyes, smiling indulgently. Roxana was bound to be anxious, what with her first year and everything. Damian had teased her for ages and she was practically itching to go for herself.

"If I must," she sighed, kissing him deeply for a moment, allowing herself to feel drunk and giddy on the kiss as always before having to pull away and get ready to shower.

When Victoria had become pregnant with Damian, Severus insisted that they move. His childhood home was not where he wanted to raise their child, and so they found a lovely home a bit south and east in a larger city, but a much kinder neighborhood. The house was big enough for them to have a couple of children, which they did. It also had an attached bath to the master bedroom, which Severus had insisted on, claiming it was a convenience, although she knew it was so that they could move their lovemaking from the bed to the shower and vice versa easily.

As soon as she came out of the shower, she dried off quickly and dressed in some nice Muggle clothes, not wanting to embarrass her children at King's Cross. She liked wearing her Muggle clothes, anyway, having to wear robes at work. Waving her wand to dry her hair, Victoria decided to let her long red locks hang naturally instead of putting them up.

Knowing Severus liked it better when she didn't wear makeup, Victoria didn't bother to put any on except a bit of lip balm. Taking a deep breath and smiling to herself, Victoria made her way downstairs to the kitchen where Severus had finished breakfast and set four plates down on the table beside the four cups of tea she guessed Damian had probably just put out.

Neither Damian nor Roxana had her red hair, for which she was grateful. They both had their father's luxurious raven locks, but she'd found a way to keep all of their hair from being too greasy. Roxana, though, had her mother's eyes, and therefore basically had her father wrapped around her little finger.

Breakfast was a quick affair and Severus had already loaded up the car, so the lot of them got into it and they drove the several hours it took to get down to London. As they went, Roxana bounced anxiously in her seat and Damian rolled his eyes, sticking his nose into one of the textbooks he'd neglected to finish over the summer. Severus laced his fingers into Victoria's and they just smiled, knowing that not seeing the children until Christmas was both a blessing and a curse.

Kissing them goodbye on the platform, Victoria felt an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. They'd grown up, she realized, climbing back into the car after waving them away as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station. Severus took her hand again, kissing it before turning on the car.

"They're gone," she said, blinking, staring out of the window.

"They'll be back soon enough," he assured her, gently caressing the back of her hand with his thumb as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"Not too long until they don't come back," she whispered.

"They'll visit," he insisted, and she knew he was right. "Besides," he said with a grin, turning to look at her, "I won't complain about more time alone with you."

Victoria Snape couldn't help but grin down at the ring on her finger, proud that when it counted in her life, she managed to make a decision. It was the best decision she'd ever made.


End file.
